


The Mage and the Master

by dragonlady (katelaine9109)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 21:56:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7009795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katelaine9109/pseuds/dragonlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>da'len : little one</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Mage and the Master

**Author's Note:**

> da'len : little one

**Solas:**

He watched with concern as her face contorted, signaling the beginning of another bad dream. She had been asleep for three days, the glowing mark on her hand the only sign of life. How had it gotten there? What happened at the conclave? Solas was determined to find out.

He took her hand gently in his own, careful not to startle her. She didn’t seem to be hostile, but Maker knows how her brain and body would react to such trauma…he didn’t want to take any chances. She’d almost woken up several times, and just when Solas thought he would finally be able to pick her brain, her body would go limp again, indicating that the magic within her was not quite done with its healing. He did his best to keep the mark stable; magic seemed to explode from it during her nightmares. If she were to eventually wake up, he wasn’t sure that she would have any control over her power. She would need to be taught how to wield her mark, and Solas found himself more desperate to teach her with each passing hour.

He had watched her seal the breach. He saw the pure power that radiated from her body before she collapsed to the ground. All she had to do was hold up her hand and the mark did the rest. He had never witnessed such a thing during his travels through the Fade. This elf, whoever she may be, held the entire world in her left hand. She had to wake up, he had so many questions.

_What if she doesn’t?_

Solas couldn’t allow himself to worry about this woman. There were more pressing matters that needed to be addressed. Mark or no mark, the rifts needed to be sealed, and Solas believed he could research within the Fade to find a way to seal them. He stood up from the chair by her bedside and gave her hand one last look before straightening himself, his blood rushing from his head to his toes in a wave of needles. How long had he been sitting there? She wasn’t even awake and already wasting his time.

Solas turned abruptly on his heel and walked out the door.

 **Braelyn:**  
Dark. Stone. Cold.  
Green. Pain. Eclipse.  
Silence.

_There was a mirror._

Black. Wolf. Six.  
Panic. Calm. Whispers.  
Stirring.  
_“Da’len, come to me.”_

Braelyn’s lungs exploded as she gasped at the cold air. She was alone. Her hand was throbbing with new pain.  
“Maker’s breath, where am I?” she squeaked, the sting in her throat rising with her words. How long had she been there? What happened? The shattered memories from before her slumber began to fuse themselves together. The Conclave, no! Braelyn stood up, her head was throbbing and her heart was racing. She looked down at her hand, the green light pulsating stronger with every sharp breath. The mark seemed to call to her, a whisper in between every beat of magic. Braelyn’s hand began to go out of focus, and she felt herself swaying out of control.

Parchment. Embrium. Vanilla.  
Gray. Soft. Deep.

Falling.  


Braelyn opened her eyes slowly to adjust to the darkness surrounding her. Her back and neck ached dully as she sat up and swung her legs to the side of the bed.  
“Ah, there we are. I am glad to see you still live.”

Braelyn whipped her head around with such force that her brain sloshed around like liquid. She looked at the floor to assist with her focus, and slowly walked her eyes up the body in the corner. The voice’s bare feet were wrapped tightly with cloth, which faded into a pair of dark green breeches that stopped at the waist, the loose tunic offering a glimpse of lean muscle. The man the voice belonged to was leaning against the wall, his gray eyes observing her with a flash of curiosity before settling on her face. He was handsome. His athletic figure complimented his face, it was sharp and soft. Braelyn felt the familiar fluttering in her stomach. Focus. His eyes reminded her of the storms in the Free Marches, they were filled with excitement and…something else she couldn’t quite describe. 

He spoke gently, “You have been asleep for three days. I wandered out to work on some research and when I returned to you, I found that you had made your way out of the bed, and onto the floor. You are badly bruised, and your magic has been working hard to restore your body. I did what I could to assist, but I was not sure you would wake.”  
“I appreciate your concern, but where am I?” Braelyn demanded.  
“You are in Haven, The base of the Inquisition. I am Solas. I’ve been studying your mark while you slept.”

_So much for taking it slow_

“Can you tell me what happened here?” Solas straightened and sauntered over to her, his eyes pouring into her the entire time.  
“You came out of the Fade. Some say they saw Andraste behind you, others say it was just a woman. Then you sealed the breach, albeit temporarily. Your advisors will want to see you at once. They have so many burning questions.” Something in his tone told Braelyn that they weren’t the only ones. His voice seemed so familiar. She adjusted her posture to mirror the elf standing before her. “Take me to them.” 

**Solas:**  
She was bossy.  
“All in time, da’len, but first I would know your name.”  
“What would you like it to be?” she toyed with him. He felt the heat rising into his ears, she was being coy.  
“If you’re going to jest, Lady Herald, I advise you jest with someone else.” She considered his statement, and he saw her dark brown eyes flash with mischief.  
“If they want answers, I advise you take me to them. Only then, will you get yours.”  
_She likes to play games._  
Solas suppressed a growl. He felt a twinge of heat below his waist. Frustration mixed with desire.  
_So do I._  
“Very well, da’len. I will take you to them now.”


End file.
